Milk for the Khorne Flakes
by BIBOTOT
Summary: All Khârn the Betrayer wants was a victory to make up for his disatrous campaign. But when two Eldar brothers ask him for a favor, thing goes CRAZY. Your comments are highly appriciated. Chapter 2 is up!
1. I am so frustrated!

The battleship Gore Lord emerged from the Eye of Terror like an insect fleeing from its destroyed nest. On board were 54 Khorne Berzerkers, most insane warriors dedicated to the Blood God so that he could have the widest, deepest pool for his daily afternoon swim, a habit that put Nurgle to envy. They were led by none other than the patron of Khorne himself, Khârn the Betrayer. Although his action on Skalathrax had forever lost him the favor of Angron, as well as any other Chaos force, some still followed him, hoping to earn a tally in the name of the Blood God, who was probably the only person in this entire universe who truly adored Khârn.

After the events of the Thirteenth Black Crusade, when killing the puny Imperial armies no longer satisfied him, Khârn once again fled to the Eye of Terror where he unleashed a blood crusade of his own. Unfortunately for him, it also turned out to be the most disastrous crusade ever made.

Starting out with 500 Space Marine Berzerkers, the Sons of Khârn took 200 casualties including their Dreadnought and none-obliterated Techmarine during a sparring with the Black Legion over their food supply on Hyetoth. The sons of Horus only lost 38 Astartes during this battle. Not so long after that, being so eager to take the head of a Tyranid Hive Lord, Khârn led his forces into a Space Hulk where they engaged the enemy that outnumbered them 60 to 1. Khârn ultimately claimed his trophy but at the cost of more than half of his men. It turned out the Tyranid Hive Lord's head was almost entirely organism which can survived for long due to the decomposing and the Berzerkers didn't have anything to reserve it. And so that biggest head ever taken by Khârn became the smallest which he lost after accidentally stepped on without even realizing it. However, the most shameful battle took place on Kykela where the Sons of Khârn took a bitter defeat under the hands of the Alpha Legion. Due to the lack of strategy and his hot temper, Khârn led his entire forces into a death trap which had been elaborately sprung. What happened next was little more than a massacre, or maybe a little less. In the end, only 54 Bezerkers managed to escape the planet alive, the trail of destruction they left behind was one dead cultist.

Due to these recent defeats, the reputation of Khârn had fallen gradually like a ball rolling down the endless hill. The quote he used every time he woke up had also changed from "Who's head should I take today?" to "How am I going to take somebody's head today?" It had been weeks since Gore Child had the last taste of blood. He was frustrated. He thirsted for victory.

"I am frustrated. I thirst for victory," Khârn complained to his second in command, Lovian. "Why is everything so difficult these days? Have I really lost it?"

"No, my lord," Lovian replied with profound respect. "You're as good as always. The problem is just we aren't lucky these days. I'm sure we'll put something to work."

"Nothing is working," Khârn moaned. "What if…what if I can't take another decent skull anymore? What if Zhufor takes my place and become the next patron of the Blood God? What if I am a pervert just like the Alpha Legion has said? What if I really have changed? What if I've gone weak from the proud and powerful man I used to be? I want you to answer me with honest. I'm not threatening you."

Taking a deep sigh, Lovian responded, "If all you say are correct, then we should change the name of this Chaos Space Marine chapter to Great Grandson of Khârn and our war cry to Milk for the Khorne Flakes."

Khârn nodded. "You're right. Perhaps we should just lay low and do some small jobs for a while. I heard the Burger Marines are offering a position in their restaurant. Who knows my experience in axe-swinging would come in handy when wiping the floor or wash the dishes."

"That's on the list of possibility."

"There is something else I need to ask you. Tell no one, you hear me."

"What is it my lord?" asked Lovian.

"What if I like men more than women?" asked Khârn. "What if I am really…gay?"

"Then I'll desert and enroll in the Skulltaker," Lovian replied. "He's giving free size 26 pants to any fresh recruit."

"Right," Khârn said wearily. "That bastard Zhufor. He thinks he's bigger and better and bloodier that me? Well, I'll show him..."

Suddenly a Khorne Berserker panicked to the room. It almost seemed like his face was without a drop of blood.

"Sir…my lord…," he stammered.

"What is it?" Khârn spat. "Come on, tell me! Tell me or I will cut you to pieces!"

"My lord," said the Berserker. "We have been board. They said they wanted to see you."

This was somewhat very strange as Khârn hadn't had any visitor for centuries. He seemed bit hesitated before decided to speak, "Who exactly are they?"

"A warsmith from the Iron Warrior and…and…?"

"And who? Who are the other two?"

"…Eldars."

"ELDAR?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Alright, here's the second chapter. If the first one was funny, this will knock your socks out.**

As Khârn and Lovian walked to the deck, they came across the hallways. They were clean, a little too clean. Usually the walls inside the Gore Lord were filthy and messy, draped in red blood and decorated with the latest trophy Khârn earned from the enemy he slew. But now, things were different and thinking about the past made him felt sad.

At the deck, all Berzerkers were present, weapons raised and imbued with murderous intend, staring at the three figures. The first was a Warsmith, a huge horned Astartes baring the markings of the Iron Warrior Chapter but without the eight-pointed star of Chaos. His armor was new, so Khârn assumed he had undergone alteration after changing side. Much of his implants had been replaced by mechanics items: right hand – plasma cannon, left hand – a massive drill, chest – a compressor refrigerator (with ice creams in it), left leg – just a fake one, nothing too out of place but for the fact it was longer than its right. The giant walked with slight difficulty.

The two others were Eldar. They both looked relatively young, though Khârn knew Eldar do not age, and somewhat extraordinary beautiful and noble. One of them had blond hair and purple eyes with distinctive star-shaped pupils while the other had blue hair, blue eyes and heart-shaped pupils. The way they appeared and appealed reminded Khârn of the time had passed by, the time when he had such things as father and home, loyalty and good thoughts for the betterment of his Legion. Their shimmered in red silky clothes, however, were not anything but noble. All the runic insignia had been stripped to bare metal, leaving only a few marks left, undeniably dedicated to the Blood God.

"He looks shorter than I thought," said the Warsmith.

"What did you say?" Khârn demanded.

"I said, you look shorter than what I have originally expected."

"You pass me by a head," said Khârn menacingly. "But if you ever try to mock me again, I'll make an even out of that. Got it?"

"Guys, this isn't the time," spoke the Eldar with blond hair and purple eyes. He was carrying a helmet with a horrendous picture of a mouth screaming or singing. "After the job is done I promise I will leave you to whatever business you may have. And for your question, we were transported here via teleportation. Your ship doean't carry the device to prevent infiltration, so we slipped right in."

That was true, Khârn couldn't remember when was the last time he had this ship repaired and maintained. The Blood God patron turned, looking the Eldar directly. "What in the name of Khorne are you?"

"I am Valentine Windsong, and that's Alvios Windsong. We're Blood Eldar. I can see you don't get on well with Kayla, our Warsmith."

"Blood Eldar?

"Yes," the Eldar replied. "And just like you, we're too devotees of the Blood God."

"Isn't your race incorruptible by the Ruinous power?"

"That's just an old belief. We're radical. We know in this long fight against the Great Enemy, there's only one who can put an end to that blasphemy for good. And that's Khorne."

"And what brings you two young ladies abroad our ship today?"

"L-ladies?" the Eldar stuttered. "Wow there, we may be xenos as you may call but me and my brother are 100% male."

Without warning, Khârn reached out his hand and grabbed Valentine's chest.

"HEY! What are you doing?"

Khârn ignored that question. His hand moved around searching for fleshy mound but there wasn't any. Valentine's chest was as flat as a cutting board would be. Nevertheless, Khârn tried squeezing it.

The Berzerkers glanced in horror. The Warsmith dropped his mechanic jaw to the ground, literally.

"Get your hand off me!" the Eldar yelped, waving his arms madly like a prey trying to break free from its predator. His face turned crimson red and blushed violently.

"No boobs," Khârn said finally. "So you are a man."

That confirmed it all. Khârn the Betrayer was undoubtedly and unmistakably into men more than women. Lovian whispered it to one of his Berzerkers who nodded back in agreement.

_Skulltaker, here I come._

"Of course I am a man!" Valentine shouted, pushing Khârn backwards. " I might be what you call Xeno. But we Eldar have male and female just like the human. What do you thing am anyway?"

"Well," explained Khârn. "I saw you two having long hair and smoothie skin and sparkle eyes so I honestly thought you were females."

"I would be quite a shock to find out brother was a girl all along," added Alvios, looking awfully accommodating.

"You stay out of this," Valentine turned to his brother with a grim face. "You're just making things worse."

"Anyway, you haven't answered my question why you came here in the first place," Khârn began.

"We've come in need of your help," Valentine responded.

Khârn stared at him with a glance that could kill a Land Raider. Valentine tried to look away, but he couldn't, not because Khârn was hypnotizing him but because any sign of fear would bring difficulty to his bargain. The Berzerker's stare bore right through him, but he didn't fade, nor did he shudder.

'And what would that be?" asked Khârn, not even making the slightest attempt to hide the sarcasm in his tone.

Taking a deep sigh to regain his calmness, Valentine started. "There's a bastion belongs to the Emperor Children on the world of Haryana VI not too far away from here, only about two sectors, twenty light years from where we are now. We want you to help us raid it."

"And why should we help you?"

"Well, I've heard that you reputation is falling remarkably due to your recent disastrous defeats. The number of heads you achieved, though many but lacks the diversity. Check out Zhufor the Impaler's collection. He's got heads from all the race in this galaxy, including Necron, Ork, Dark Eldar, Tau, Kroot, Squat, Ogryn, Vraksian mutated Ogryn, Zerg, Protoss, Covenant, **Oompa-Loompas, ect…"**

"And your point is?"

"You are the Blood God's finest servant. For ten of thousands years you have stood in that position unopposed. Now things have changed, and it's time for more radical measures to be undertaken. If I'm not mistaken, there's nothing in this universe that would make you happier than achieving a victory for the Blood God. This is exactly the chance to do it."

"There's truth in that," Khârn conceded after a moment's thought. " Though I hate to admit I'm saying this in front of an Eldar. But why Haryana? I don't just attack randomly like that. There's got to be a purpose, right?"

"The Keeper of Secret who runs the place is in possession of a Bloodthirster head which he took after slaying him in battle. Bringing it back to Khorne would definitely gain you the favor from him. So what do you say?"

"It suits my hearing. But what is in it for you?"

Valentine's voice turned softer, more melodious. "Why, the Great Enemy is the one who caused the fall of our once great empire. She is the reason why our kinsmen have to live so far away in Craftworlds. Me and my brother, we lost our soul stones and now have to offer our service to Khorne, so that he would destroy our souls once we die and not letting them fall to the hand of Slaanesh," the Eldar pronounced the word with great resentment, as if he had been forced to eat a lemon. "If there's anyone who hates the Prince of Excess more than the Skull King, that that's got to be an Eldar. One other thing, the enthronement of Zhufor the impaler would put our race into...a very difficult situation."

"And mine is not?" asked Khârn sarcastically.

Valentine smiled. "Of course. But at a lower degree?"

Khârn hesitated, not sure whether to accept or not. He turned to face his comrades, asking for their opinion. To be honest, they were to awed by him to have spoke up anything particularly helpful. After a while…

"Alright, we'll help you," he declared.

"Really?" asked Alvios happily.

"Yes, but first…"

Khârn the Betrayer raised his chainaxe, the Gore Child and pointed it at the surprised Eldar.

"There's still little test I need to run on you," he said. "I want to make sure you aren't becoming any hindrance on the field of battle."

Both Valentine and Alvios chuckled. The Warsmith looked confused.

"If you want it that bad, than come and get me you pervert," Valentine taunted.

"I'm not a pervert," exclaimed Khârn angrily.

"Yes you are!"

"No I am not! For that, I'll kill you!"

Valentine Windsong vs Khârn the Betrayer.

Rebel 1.

Action.


End file.
